


Bury a Body, Dig up Memories

by privxess



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels), btd - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Other, also AU kind of? not the BTD world?, and im so fucking sorry, strade makes u his bitch for ur whole life and u have one last night, this is A LOT IM NOT KIDDING ABOUT THE RAPE/NONCON HERE GUYS, who know sorry, wow so this is a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/privxess/pseuds/privxess
Summary: You and Strade have been friends for a life time, but one night his problems drag you down with them, and you remember some less desirable memories. hopefully you like. less scary shade and more like...really....evil shade if he was like a regular kid LOL





	Bury a Body, Dig up Memories

**Author's Note:**

> okay, i honestly have nothing to say? enjoy. super...bad...super gross.

You aren’t sure how to feel, standing in the neighbor’s backyard at 4 AM, holding a shovel. Strade stands in front of you, looking you up and down. It makes you uncomfortable. If someone would have asked you if you imagined the summer before your freshman year of college to be like this, you would have called them crazy. This is the last summer you and Strade will share together, you’re moving out of state at the end of the month, and he’s been getting rather aggressive with his treatment towards you. It’s always been a staple that he treats you better than everyone else, but he adores you in a way that he likes breaking you down mentally, till you become completely dependent on him. Which you have, coming at his every beck and call, even tonight.

“Are you going to dig the hole or do I have to make you? If I have to do that, I’m gonna have to hurt ya.” His voices cuts into the night, your eyes snapping up to meet his. He has a playful smile on his lips, almost taunting you. You looked down again, at his feet there is a lifeless body, mangled and destroyed from what you should assume is his fault, but you’ll have to clean up after him. Fix it so he won’t end up hurt or in trouble, but looking at the deep cuts running along the body make you want to vomit. Again. “If I do it, you’re going in the hole with _them_ ” He laughs, hand shooting down to grab the body’s matted hair and show the face to the you.

 It’s even worse than the rest of the body. Nails drilled into upper part of the forehead, one of the cheeks is sliced open. The nose is smashed into almost nothing, but something about them still looks familiar, somebody you knew. An old best friend. Maybe. You decide to turn your back to the body, facing your neighbor’s house, knowing they will be blamed for this, and if they aren’t, Strade never will be. You take a deep breath, not wanting to think about the body, the family, and the lives ruined just tonight.  Finally, though, you press the shovel into the soft dirt and begin to dig a hole fit for the body.

_You are thirteen. Strade is fifteen. He has you locked in his bedroom, arms handcuffed behind your back and you squirm across the floor, tears streaking down your cheeks. “I wanna go home!” You cried at him, before he grabbed one of your legs and pulled you closer to him, his carpeted floor burning against the back of your arms._

_“Common! We’re having fun, just the two of us…” He trails off, before he gets you all the way in his lap, forcing you into a straddle like position. “You look so helpless…” He says quietly, leaning back on his palms to admire you. The look hes giving you reminds you something out of Animal Planet, a predator admiring prey. You think he’s going to hit you again, but you haven’t made him mad in a while, so he has no reason to._

_You’re still crying, mostly hiccupping and whimpering as you twist your hands behind your back. “I wanna go home. I have homewo- “You’re cut off, Strade’s mouth crashing against yours. It’s hot and rough, one of his hands coming up to hold the back of your head, keeping you pressed into him. His teeth sink into your lips almost immediately, a groan coming from your mouth. Before you know it, he has you pinned under his body, small sobs still racking your body as he keeps kissing you roughly. His hands start to touch your, roaming under the fabric of your shirt as the assault on your mouth continues, tongue pushing its way down your throat._

_You gag and try to struggle away, but he pushes his lips onto your further, moving down and starting to bite at your neck. Your crying grows louder once more, trying to shake your head away, before he kisses you one last time, biting down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood._

_Just as suddenly as it began, he stops, putting his arms on either side off your head, looking down at your as his hair falls partially over his face. You heave, chest rising and falling as you looks up at his face with flushed cheeks. He doesn’t stop looking into your eyes, a small smirk crawling across his face._

_“So you liked it...”_

 

“I wanna go home.” You mutter, dumping dirt over the body. Strade stands far away, in fact, at the back door of the house, idly watching your and seeing how you handles such a situation. Your arms are tired; you want to go back to bed. You would **love** a shot. You wish yourself and Strade had never became friends, you wouldn’t have ended up like this at all, you might have even been able to form normal relationships with people if it wasn’t for him. You try not to think too much about it though, dumping the dirt into the hole mindlessly.

Strade on the other hand, has taken interest in breaking into the neighbor’s house, as quiet as a mouse, nobody ever catches him doing anything wrong. It’s going to be just your luck that someone sees your hiding a body, but you take a second to wipe a tear from your eyes. You don’t think you deserves to be treated like this, to have to depend on someone so **evil** for everything. Your parents raised your to be nice and sweet and loving, not to hate yourself and let someone take advantage of your like this, but they also don’t know Strade like you does. They trusted him so much with your and keeping you safe…

 

_You’re only nine, he’s eleven. Your parents went out for a date night and wouldn’t be home until later. Till two, to be exact. That’s what they told Strade before he shut the door behind them and they drove off into the sunset, like a fairytale. You were excited, you loved having Strade stay the night. Key word, loved. You were starting to regret it with each passing minute. He’s made rules for your, one by one that he knows you’ll follow, simply because you’ve always done what he’s said._

_He told your it was time to take a bath, although you already took one this morning, you wandered into the bathroom and fill the tub with warm water. And bubbles, lots and lots of bubbles. Your mom wasn’t there to tell your that you can’t use half the bottle, so you did that too. You remember leaning on the edge of the tub, dipping your hand into the water, when Strade walked in._

_“Hey! Are you gonna take your bath soon, buddy?” He asks, placing a hand on your head._

_“Yeah! I was just waiting for the tub to fill up!” You giggled, before turning the facet off._

_Everything seemed to slow down as Strade suddenly pushes your head underwater, and it took a minute for the rest of your body to react. Your hands push against the edge of tub, trying to force your head out of the water. The feeling in your chest is tight and its scaring your, you don’t know when Strade is going to let your come up for air._

_His hand tightens in your hair as he snaps your back out of the water. You heave and pants, but only for a second before he’s forcing your back into the water for another round of torture. You try to use your legs to kick at him from behind, but he simply adjusts himself so his knees force their way into the backs of your, pinning you’re in place. You never thought about dying until then, you’re nine, why would you ever even consider the idea of dying. You start to think that this is how_ _you die, your best friend holding your hair in his hand and him, holding you underwater. In a last resort, you reach your hands behind you and start to claw at his arms. Only then does he yank your back up and pull you into his chest, releasing your hair and wrapping your arms around the small girl._

_Hands quickly come to cover your eyes as you sputtered out water, heaving and crying. You don’t understand what just happened, or why that just happened. You don’t even think you can breathe, hands still covering your eyes. You opened your mouth to speak, but all that comes out is more coughs and chokes, Strade still holding your lovingly in his arms. “Don’t say anything, I don’t know what came over me…I guess I just got carried away.” He whispered, rubbing one of your sides tenderly. “You can forgive me, can’t you?” He continues, resting his head on your shoulder, water droplets from your hair landing on his cheeks._

_You felt like you were still drowning, so all you did is nod._

 

 

“Can’t you go any faster?” Strade taunts your,mm, standing feet away from your as you cry, still covering the body with dirt. A knife teases the skin of his hand, as he twirls the point on his palm. “There still time for me to burry you too.” He continues, the younger girl trying to move the dirt into the hole faster. He laughs, the sounds echoing through the night.

Taking a shaky breath, the dirt is almost all back into the hole now. The night is almost over, college is starting soon, all you can think about is soon you will be **far** away from Strade and this. You want to run away, reinvent yourself. You’re not even staying in state for college, you’re moving from this sleepy town to another one, miles and miles away from this place.  Sniffling, you try to just get this over with, he can’t keep your out here forever.

 

_You’re sixteen. He’s eighteen. Highschool is full of a time where hormones run high, but you aren’t interested. You are pretty, people fawn and drool over your, they are irrelevant in your eyes. Highschool has changed your, not much, but you are more self-aware, the once ugly duckling has started to grow some feather, although you won’t become a swanuntil that summer before high school, you are still a sight. Strade is always a few inches left of your anyways, derailing the eyes of other boys away, he is a senior after all._

_You’re at his house, his parents aren’t home, is isn’t like they would help if they were though. His door is shut, locked, and his chair is rigged under the handle, no way to get in, no way to get out. Muffled sobs and screams come from inside the room, drowned out with loud, blasting music._

_“Stop! Stop, please!” You sob shakily, thrashing your body around violently as Strade fights to hold down. Your arms are tied to the bedframe above your, the ropes rubbing your wrists raw._

_“Hey! Stop moving or I’m going to **hurt**_ _you.” He says, a commanding tone in his voice. He gets a grip on your throat and holds you there. “You wouldn’t want that would you? No? That’s what I thought. You look so gorgeous right now, so helpless. Kind of like a few years ago when I kissed you.” He speaks calmly, your sniffling and crying still filling the empty space between words._

_Your pants have long been removed from your body, Strade already having wrestled you out of them. Starting slow, he pulls your underwear aside and thrusts a finger inside, earning a loud sob from the you.  You kick one of your legs out, but Strade quickly apprehends your and digs his nails into the skin of your thigh. He’s interested, of course he’s been with other people, but none of them cry or scream like you does when he touches them. The sobs of unwanted touches give him in the same feelings he got whenever he choked you on the way to school or when he slapped you. He groans quietly, pushing a second finger inside._

_A moan slips past your lips, your body responding without your wanting to. You’re scared, nobody has ever touched you like this and now you don’t think anyone might ever. Why is he doing this to you?_

_Strade has a better idea. A few minutes after he has you sobbing for him to stop, he does. But quickly, his mouth replaces his fingers and he licks you roughly.  You taste sweet, different, scared. He can’t help himself and he gets too carried away, listening to you cry and beg him to stop, and you cum._

_Looking into your eyes, he smiles at you and says, “You liked it.”_

 

The car ride home is silent, you’ve stopped crying. The radio plays static, this feels like a movie. At a stoplight, Strade finally cracks the silence.

“I’m going to have sex with you.” He states, not a question. He is telling you what he will do to you. You move for the door handle that isn’t there, and you start sobbing. Strade has taken everything from you. From your willpower, to everything intimate, it belongs to Strade.  “I’m going to get to my house soon, and you’re going to **love** it.

By the time you get to his house, you’re inconsolable. You can’t stop crying and the panic is rising in your throat. Without so much as a care, Strade drags you up the stairs to his room and he shuts and locks the door.  You spend the whole night crying and begging Strade to let you go home, but of course, he doesn’t.

You move away for college two weeks later. You don’t give Strade your dorm information.

He still shows up.


End file.
